The Room of White
by xxUSxUKxx
Summary: First, Finnick was on a mission in President Snow's mansion. Next, he wakes up in a strange place with someone who is just as confused as he is. (Heaven, takes place during Mockingjay - Cato/Finnick friendship - Complete!)


The first thing that Finnick saw when his eyes opened was white. It was everywhere. White walls that seemed to run endless down the horizon. There was a white ceiling that was so high up that it looked impossible to reach. Even the floor was white. But small wisps of clouds littered around the floor, making it look like it were made from cotton.

Finnick's body ached. His head throbbed like it was getting crushed together by two boulders on either side of him. His stomach wasn't much better, rumbling like a thunderstorm. But what hurt the most was his neck. It was like someone had sliced a knife against it. He reached up a hand hesitantly, stroking his neck to see if that was the case. Drawing his hand back, he noted that there wasn't any blood, so that was a positive sign.

As much as Finnick wanted to get up and have a look around at this place he was at, he didn't want to actually_ get up_. It was quite comfortable laying on this ground, feeling the small cloud-like puffs of whatever they were tickle his cheeks pink.

But Finnick didn't understand.

Why was he here? Why wasn't he back at President Snow's mansion where he was supposed to be? That was his mission after all.

All he remembered was that something was chasing him. Whatever it was, it was huge. It had razor-sharp teeth and glowing beady eyes that seemed to stare into his very soul. What he felt after that was brutal, it was exactly the same pain in his neck that he was experiencing now. Did the monster catch him? Was he _inside_ the monster?

Or was he dead?

No, he couldn't be dead. He was Finnick Odair, he couldn't die _already_, he was on a mission!

Besides, if he was dead, he wouldn't be breathing.

Finnick let out a much needed sigh, his head spinning. There was nothing he could come up with that would explain the situation he was in. Alive or dead, he didn't know. Then again, he really didn't mind right now. He knew that he was safe, since no one had tried to come after him in a while yet.

A rather loud groan escaped his lips as he flipped over to one side, bringing his hand to his face. He stopped, rubbing his cheeks. They were soft. He knew that he had soft cheeks, but not this soft. Besides, wasn't his face covered in scars and scratches before? It didn't take this long for them to heal, did it?

"Oh good, glad to see your awake~"

It was a voice. Not Finnick's, but someone else with a low tone. It was another man, but Finnick didn't recognize the voice. Who could it be? Besides, he could have sworn it was just him here in this white place.

The brunette stirred after a moment, sitting upwards and propping himself up with his hands. His gaze traveled around the white ever-expanding room. There was still nothing.

Maybe he just imagined it. Maybe he accidentally inhaled some sort of hallucination gas that was causing him to think up all of this. That seemed more likely.

But just when he was about to lie back down, that's when he saw it. Well, it wasn't exactly an _it_, as he noticed. In fact, it was a person, a boy no older than eighteen. The boy was just sitting there, on a pile of those cloud things, swinging his legs back and forth, looking admiringly around at the white room.

Finnick furrowed his eyebrows together. This didn't make any sense. How did this guy just suddenly appear, especially someone who he didn't know? Why didn't he notice him before?

Pursing his lips together, he managed to get to his feet with minimal effort. Cautiously, he approached the boy, taking looks around the room in case this was some sort of trick and he was in some form of danger. But there was nothing. In fact, there didn't look like there could be any weapons of any sort around here. But if there was, they were extremely well hidden. Nevertheless, he kept his guard up just to be sure.

The boy sitting on the pile of cloud smoke had acknowledged his approach and moved slightly over to face him. The boy was tall, probably about the same height as Finnick. He was blonde, with hair that stuck up straight in the front as if it were styled up in that way. He had bright blue eyes that seemed to brighten up the room even more than it already was. His shoulders were broad, which seemed to go along nicely with his well-muscled body. Overall, he was a piece of eye-candy for Finnick here.

"You're awake _and_ moving!" The boy smiled slightly over at him, clearly pleased to see him up.

Finnick tried to keep his expression straight. This was no time to be all flirty now with people, especially since they _just_ started talking to each other.

"Yeah," Was all that Finnick could muster out. Normally, he was fine at talking with other people. But this time it was just... weird. Maybe it was because he was still struggling with his surroundings and trying to grasp ahold of what was supposedly going on.

"Woah, are you okay? You don't look so good all of a sudden."

The boy's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Finnick glanced up at him, now looking a cross between confused and innocent. He wanted to say that he wasn't okay. He really did feel sick. He felt sick when he first woke up in here.

"I... uh...," He struggled with his words again. Why was it so hard to get a point across?

"Calm down, you don't need to start talking yet. Just give it a few moments." The boy explained, hopping down from his cloud pile, which grew smaller until it had disappeared into the other puffs around on the ground.

Finnick nodded in understanding at the boy's commands, keeping his lips together. Once Finnick found his voice, he knew he would start to ask this stranger everything that was bothering him now.

"Here, I'll get you a chair for you to sit down in." The boy offered, approaching Finnick, but keeping his distance at the same time, as though not to alarm the other.

Finnick furrowed his eyebrows together. A chair? Where would he find a chair in this place? _Especially _this place?

He watched the blonde wander away and down the white room a ways, glancing around the room as though he really was going to find a chair in this place. Sighing and shaking his head, Finnick turned the other way before closing his eyes.

He was back in President Snow's mansion again, but he was laying down now like he was the first time he came to the white room. There was a girl, younger than him, that was leaning over his face. She was crying, tears coming down for pale cheeks as she stared down at his eyes. Chaos ran ramped behind her, but Finnick paid no attention to that. He was just focused on the girl. Why was she crying?

"Katniss..." The name of the girl issued out of Finnick's mouth softly.

"Hmm? Katniss, you say?"

Finnick opened his eyes, turning around to see the blonde behind him. He stared down in shock at the chair that the blonde was leaning against. Where _the_ _hell_ did the chair come from?

The boy smiled stiffly, moving away from the chair and pushing it more towards him so he could sit down.

Finnick smiled reluctantly and sat down. It was just pure comfort and he felt as though he could fall asleep at any moment just by sitting in this chair. Wherever it came from, he was glad that this guy had brought it to him. He was about to breathe out a thanks, when the boy started talking again.

"Sorry it eavesdrop, but I heard you mention a Katniss.,,?"

Finnick, whose voice suddenly vanished again, just merely nodded in agreement at him.

"Really? Huh..." The boy looked down at the ground, furrowing his eyebrows together in thought.

Raising an eyebrow curiously, Finnick sat in the chair, watching the other with wonder. He was still trying to figure out who this guy was. He didn't know him, that was for sure.

"Katniss... I haven't heard that name in a while. It's very familiar." The boy continued, glancing up at Finnick for a moment. But after a moment of thought, he just shrugged it away, seeming as though it wasn't important.

How had this guy known Katniss? Well, nowadays, everyone knew of Katniss. But still, this intrigued him even more.

"Anyway, are you alright now?" The boy changed the subject, moving his head to look down at Finnick in the chair again.

He was comfortable in the piece of furniture now, snuggling closer in the cushions. Nodding his head, Finnick smiled up at him sleepily.

"That's good. Some of the color is coming back into your cheeks again." The boy observed, moving backwards until he landed on the pile of clouds he was sitting on before.

Finnick felt his cheeks heat up slightly, so he just let out a sigh. "Umm... If you don't mind me asking..." He began, glad that he could hear his voice once again. Hearing his voice caused the other boy to lift his head in interest. "Uh... who exactly are you?"

The blonde looked down, pressing his lips together so that they made just a line across his face. Finnick suddenly felt sort of guilty for asking such a question. Maybe he was already supposed to know who this boy was?

"My name's not important," He finally replied carefully. "No one remembers my name. They never remember."

Finnick stared up at the other absently with slightly large eyes. He immediately felt sympathy for him. Here Finnick was, one of the most popular people in all of Panem, sitting with someone whom he didn't even know, yet alone no one remembered. He felt bad. He felt like this was suddenly his fault for bringing this up.

"Ah, sorry to hear that," Finnick tried to sound as apologetic as possible. "But I'm Finnick, by the way, Finnick Odair."

But the blonde merely just smiled at him. "No need for the sympathy, I'm used to it." He nodded, just to push his argument further. "But it's nice to meet you, Finnick."

"Right, sure, same to you." He also nodded, but moved his attention to gaze around the white room again. "So, um... where exactly are we?"

"You know? I haven't the slightest clue."

"Really?" Finnick glanced back at the other, obviously surprised in his response.

"Yeah, but my best guess is that it's some sort of room. Though I'm not sure why it's white."

"True, maybe." He nodded in agreement, turning back to the walls again. "Maybe... Maybe we're in a dream of some sort?" He tried.

The blonde just snorted though. "If this was a dream, I would've woken up a long time ago..."

This caught Finnick's attention. He sat up in his chair, moving into a more comfortable body position so that he looked like he was interested in what the other was saying. "Really? How long have you been here?"

The blonde shrugged, swinging his legs slightly back and forth while he sat on his clouds that seemed to resemble a table. "Dunno," he admitted. "There's no sun here, so you can't see. And there aren't any clocks either." He shook his head, letting out a sigh. "It's like time freezes in here. It's strange if you ask me."

"Yeah..., strange..." He agreed, nodding solemnly again. The both of them were silent for a few moments until Finnick spoke up again. "This doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't?" The blonde's face perked up, meeting the other's gaze.

"I mean, how did I get here? Why did I? You know, that stuff."

"Well, you're guess is as good as mine."

Finnick bit his lip in thought. "How did _you_ get here?"

"Me?" The question seemed to have knocked the blonde boy off his guard. "Probably like you, I guess. Waking up in here, meeting someone else. I guess, I don't really remember."

"So, you coming here, was that like a long while ago?"

"No, no. I don't think so. I've just been waiting in here for some time though."

"Waiting?" Finnick looked at him in confusion.

"Yeah." He nodded. "I've been waiting for you."

Finnick's cheeks grew flustered for moment. As cheesy as that sounded, it was still nice to hear some teasingly lines despite the serious matter that they were in. He couldn't help but smile somewhat at the other. "So, you were waiting... for me?"

"That's right."

"Why?"

"Because I was told to." The blonde shrugged his broad shoulders like it was no big deal. "I mean, the first time I saw you, you were just kind of laying there, not moving or breathing, so I just left you alone, thinking you'll get up eventually. And then, just a few moments ago, you woke up finally!"

"Oh, I guess that makes some sense." Even though he said it, Finnick knew that he still didn't have an idea of what was going on. But then again, neither did the both of them.

A silence hung between them for a few moments. Nothing was heard during that time though. Not even the sound of breathing or anything. It was weird and oddly too quiet, as though the both of them were trying to hide from someone else.

But Finnick suddenly broke the silence with a question. "Can I ask you a serious question?"

The blonde looked back up at him again. It was obvious that he had fallen asleep in that short moment, so Finnick shot him an apologetic look in response before he continued. "Sure. What's on your mind?"

He wrung his hands together as if he were embarrassed somehow. "Are we... you know..." He shrugged his shoulders, trying to see if he didn't have to say it and the other would understand. But the blonde just tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Dead?"

"Dead?" The blonde's eyebrows shot straight up. "I don't know about you, but I know I am."

Finnick could feel his eyes grow wide with shock again. "_You're dead_?" He asked in disbelief.

"Mhm." The other nodded like it was no big deal. "Yeah, I've been dead for probably at least a year now. Maybe longer."

"_A year?_"

"Yeah, a year. Possibly a best guess." He chuckled. "Why do you sound so shocked?"

Finnick ignored his question. "How did you die? Might I ask."

"Hmm..." He looked down at the floor in thought. "It's a bit fuzzy, but I still remember."

The blonde didn't speak for a moment, so Finnick took this as he was recalling back the memory. Taking a moment to be polite, he situated himself so that he was propped up in the chair again, so he'd appear to be interested.

"Well... I was on like this large... box, almost," He made a square motion with his hands as he started talking. "I was near the edge, standing all covered in muck and blood. There was someone in front of me, also covered in blood. It was a guy, smaller than me, and caught in my headlock. And there was also a girl, pointing an arrow at me..."

As the blonde explained, Finnick suddenly saw the room start to grow darker. The scening around the both of them changed. Soon, Finnick found himself in a weird forested place. There was a large box, such as the blonde described, sitting in the middle of a field. There were three people on top of the box. The more Finnick looked, the more the scene seemed to get clearer.

There were three people on the box, as Finnick saw as he looked up. One of them, as he noticed, was the large blonde, having his arms wrapped around a shorter blonde's head. On the opposite side of the box was a girl with dark hair, a bow clasped in her hands, pointing an arrow at the taller blonde.

Finnick looked around the rest of the scenery, noticing that there were also some sort of dog mutations down on all sides of the box, trying to claw their way up to the top of the box.

And then Finnick understood. They were in the Hunger Games, and this was the arena.

"Why don't you just shoot me," A voice from the taller blonde on the box yelled. "I'm better off dead anyway."

As Finnick watched the scene from above, he saw the shorter blonde do something with his arm, gesturing something for the brunette girl. Finnick didn't understand what they were signaling for, but it seemed like they understood.

Then, the girl released her arrow, hitting the taller blonde's hand that was wrapped around the shorter blonde's neck, making him drop the him in alarm. Seeing his advantage, the shorter blonde moved over and sent a large hit towards the taller blonde, making him stumble off the Cornucopia and into the dogs below.

Finnick flinched, not bothering to look at what happened at the next scene. He closed his eyes, listening to the echoing to the screams that had drawn out from the taller blonde as the mutated dogs began to consume him.

After the voices faded, he blinked. He was back in the white room again, staring across at the taller blonde, who looked lost in thought.

"So... you were a tribute?" Finnick asked quietly.

"Me? I guess so. District 2 was where I came from, or what was left of it."

"You were a Career?"

"Sure, if that's what you call it. I don't really remember now."

"Wow..." Finnick breathed, studying the other. This blonde was someone who was in the Games, such as he was. Except, that he wasn't as lucky as he was during the time. But what intrigued Finnick the most was that he knew who the other people were up there with the taller blonde. Peeta and Katniss.

"You see why no one remembers me?" The blonde continued. "They don't care. Nobody cared. I was just a monster in everyone's eyes."

Finnick stayed silent for a moment, not sure of what to say. Should he go give him a sympathy pat? Should he saw something nice instead? He didn't know. Finnick wasn't really good with situation like this.

"Well, you helped me now, didn't you? I don't think you're a monster." He tried being kind after a moment, casting him a small smile.

The blonde looked up at him hopefully. "Yeah? Well, you're the first to think that." He shrugged, clasping his hands together and looking down.

Finnick bit his lip. Maybe he shouldn't have asked about this instead, since it was making the other feel all depressed about it.

"Well, since you're dead," He cleared his throat. "I guess that I am too."

That caught the other's attention. "Why do you sound so sure about it?"

"It makes sense, doesn't it?"

The blonde looked confused.

"Well, since you're dead, it would only mean that I am too. Besides, I was being chased by some sort of lizard things in President Snow's mansion. One of them must have captured me."

The other's eyes grew wide with amazement. "You were in Snow's mansion? No way. What for?" It was his turn to lean forward in interest.

"I was on a mission," Finnick explained, running a hand through his hair. "Well, everyone was. We had to bring down the Capital. To finally get rid of the Games and everything once and for all. But, of course, everything didn't work out in the end for me, apparently."

"You were part of the Uprising?" He asked, still amazed. "Wow... I wish I could have been part of that. I could have helped you guys out."

Finnick smiled up at him. "I'm sure you would've done great. You seem like a really skilled fighter."

The blonde looked down, smiling himself. And Finnick noticed that some color had come to his face as well. "Thanks for the compliment, but," He let out a sigh. "It really didn't do me much in the end anyway."

"Yeah, you and me both." Finnick nodded in agreement.

"Well, you lasted longer than I did." The blonde pointed out.

"I guess, but I don't think that really matters in the end anyway." He shrugged.

"Well, I guess you're right. Better be here than down there."

"That makes sense." Finnick nodded in agreement.

"Speaking of which, how _did_ you die?" The blonde's head was back up, looking over at him with that same look of interest again. "I mean, I know you were being chased by lizard things, but I thought you knew maybe some more about it."

"Me?" Finnick blinked. He didn't actually really know. "Well... uh..., All I remember was being attacked by some sort of monster thing in the mansion. It must have stabbed me or something. Nasty bastards."

The blonde chuckled at his profanity. "That's a great way to sum it up."

"Ain't it?" Finnick smiled widely, making a small pose in his chair. "Thanks! I try."

"Hm." The blonde smiled again, but not as much as another silence grew on them again. This one wasn't as awkward though, even though it was just as silent as before. In fact, this one seemed sort of peaceful as the both of them seemed to recall back memories of their lives before they came here.

"Can I ask another question?"

" 'Course! I mean, if I can answer it, I guess."

"If we're dead... Then, aren't we supposed to have like...?" Finnick stretched out his arms, making flying motions to symbolize wings.

"I suppose." He shrugged again and chuckled softly. But then his expression changed. "Look behind you."

Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, Finnick turned his head around to look behind him. As he did so, his face collided with something rather fluffy and soft. It was white, like the walls of the room they were in. They were feathers, all connected together to make a large shape. It was a wing. There were two of them, placed securely on his back.

He was angel.

He truly was dead.

"Wow! These are so-!" Finnick began, grinning widely in amusement as he turned to face the blonde again. He gasped as he saw some white wings on the back of the blonde one's back as well. "You've got some too!"

"Yeah," The blonde nodded, smiling. "I know. I've had these for a while." He reached up a hand, tenderly stroking one of the feathers of his wings.

"What?" Finnick didn't understand. "How come I didn't see them before?"

"I suppose once you found out you were dead, you suddenly could see your wings. I began to see yours when you talked about yourself being dead and everything." He explained, hopping from his cloud puffs and onto the ground. "I could see mine when I first got here. I already knew I was dead even before I hit the ground when I was pushed off the box."

"Wow..." Finnick said breathlessly. He was an angel now. Made into something beautiful now just because of his death. Who knew that things could get better after death?

All along he had been told that death was evil and he had to do everything to stay alive. That's what got him through the Games when he was fourteen. He just kept telling himself that he was going to be okay and be alive despite all the killing and everything that was happening around him.

But now, death just seemed so painless and quick, almost like falling asleep. This wasn't like he expected it to be.

"Well, would you look at that..."

Finnick looked up from admiring his wings to the other. He had a concerned look of his face, pointing to something over behind the brunette. Finnick turned around, eyes wandering around to see what the other was gesturing to.

There he saw it. It was as clear as day. There, in the middle of the room, was a bright red door, just standing there.

"What do you suppose it is?" The blonde asked cautiously, walking over to stand next to the brunette.

"A door." Finnick said simply.

"Well, I know _that_." He answered sarcastically, rolling his blue eyes. "I meant, where do you think it leads?"

Finnick shook his head, not taking his eyes off of the door. "I don't know. But wherever it leads, I'm going to find out." And he took off just like that, hopping up from his chair to run down to meet the door.

The door was a lot taller when he approached it. It seemed to stand straight up to the ceiling, if that was possible. The door handle, however, was just tall enough for Finnick to reach easily. He placed his hand onto it carefully, debating whether to turn it or not.

"Wait!" Finnick heard the blonde's voice, followed by some loud clomps of his footsteps. "What if it opens up to something bad?"

"Well, we'll just have to see, won't we?" Finnick smirked, still gripping the handle.

"Here, I'll do it. You just got here, so if anything bad happens, it'll happen to me first, so you can save yourself."

"What?" He was shrill with disbelief. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I feel it's only the way I can redeem myself. Besides, what else can I do here?"

Finnick stared up into his eyes for a moment, seeing that he was being completely serious. Maybe Finnick should just give him the chance.

And that's what he did. Letting go of the handle, he backed up a bit, careful to not hit the other with his wings as the blonde gripped the handle instead.

"Well, here goes nothing!" He said aloud, turning the knob and giving the door a shove.

Bright light surged through the threshold of the door, making the both of them shield their eyes. Finnick squinted his, following with the other in through the door. Once the light dimmed down, Finnick couldn't help but feel his mouth open in pure shock.

This place was beautiful.

Everywhere he looked, it was just perfect. It was like he was in a dream, but the best kind of dream imaginable. It was like his own paradise here. Where he could do whatever he wanted when he wanted. He just couldn't believe his eyes.

It was just _perfect._

"Wow," Finnick breathed out again, feeling suddenly light on his feet. "This place is amazing."

"Hah! You're telling me." The other boasted, grinning just as widely as the brunette.

Finnick kept his smile, turning and looking at the other. "Say, you didn't tell me your name."

The blonde looked back at him, staring in embarrassment.

"Cato," He said stiffly. "My name's Cato."

Finnick smiled, grabbing the other's hand and pulling him along through the door into the wondrous place. "Well, come on then, Cato! We mustn't hesitate!"

Cato. That was definitely going to be a name that Finnick would remember.

**~FIN~**


End file.
